


A Study in Charcoal

by sphekso



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Beverly Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphekso/pseuds/sphekso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after Hannibal's capture, a murder victim bearing his resemblance sends Will and Beverly back to visit the good doctor one more time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Charcoal

The corpse hung from the tallest branch of the tree, bowels piled on the forest floor beneath it. Its arms had been sewn together to cradle its decapitated head.

“Some view, huh?” Bev said, staring up at the mutilated body as it swayed in the breeze.

“Yeah,” Will agreed grimly. “Some view.” The corpse’s hacked-off head drew his gaze more than the shock value alone. “Is there something… off about his head?”

“Off? Yeah, I’d say his head is off, alright,” she replied.

“That’s not what I—“

“Will’s right,” Jack said, coming up behind them. “It almost looks familiar.”

“Now that you mention it, it does look a little recognizable.” Bev squinted at it. “It looks like… no, that can’t be right.”

“Are you on to something?” Jack asked.

“Maybe… I’m not sure.”

“Will?”

When Jack looked over at him there were tears in his eyes. He blinked, and one ran down his cheek, dropping off his chin to dapple the dirt. “Him,” he said, almost too quietly to hear. “It looks like him.”

“Him?” Bev asked. She peered at him for a moment before understanding dawned on her face in a wave. “Oh, Will… I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” Jack crossed his arms. “Who does it look like?”

“It looks like Hannibal,” Bev said.

Jack turned his attention back to the corpse. “God, it does.”

“I need to get out of here,” Will moaned.

“Where will you go?” Bev asked.

“Anywhere but here.” He took off his glasses and grimaced, scrunching his eyes tight, dripping more tears. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I have to leave.”

“I can drive you,” Bev said.

“That… would be nice,” he said, replacing his glasses. “But what about the crime scene?”

“I doubt there’s much fiber to analyze here, anyway. Let’s go.”

Will nodded. “Bev? Thank you.”

She smiled at him. “No problem.” She turned the ignition once they’d piled into the car and the engine roared to life. “Where to?”

“I… You’re not going to like this.”

She shook her head. “I know. You want to see him, don’t you? It’s not a good idea, Will. You haven’t even seen him in… what, two years? This won’t help you get over him.”

“It dug up old feelings,” Will explained. “I have to see him, if only to know he’s alive.”

“You know that body isn’t actually him, don't you?"

He sighed. “I realize that, but some twisted part of me needs to confirm it.”

“I won’t stop you if you’re sure it’s what you need.”

“It’s what I need.”

She shifted into reverse and started to back out, then hit the brakes. “Seatbelt?”

Will buckled in. The belt felt tight against his already-tense chest. “I can hardly breathe,” he said as they drove.

“This must be intense. I wonder how long it’s been since he’s had a visitor?”

“Probably since the last time we said goodbye. I don’t know anyone else who would see him.” His sadness multiplied at the realization. Hannibal had had to live with the pain of Will’s desertion without anyone to comfort him, or talk to.

“There’s always Chilton,” Bev said.

“You must be joking.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“That’s impossible at this point,” he muttered.

They drove in silence for a while, then: “Beverly, why are you agreeing to this? He tried to kill you.”

“You haven’t called me ‘Beverly’ in a while,” she said. “Anyway, he tried, but I got away. That’s what matters.”

Will chuckled, but it sounded wrong, discordant somehow, so he cut it off mid-laugh. “He tried to kill me too, but here I am, crawling back to him. It’s pathetic, isn’t it?”

“It’s not pathetic. He was a part of your life. And Will…”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry in advance if I’m wrong, but… you loved him, didn’t you?”

Will bit his lower lip. He didn’t reply, but his refusal to answer was tantamount to confirmation.

“Romantically,” she said. It wasn’t a question. She pulled into the State Hospital for the Criminally Insane's lot and eased to a poorly-angled stop in one of the front spaces. “Well, here we are,” she said. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

“I’m not going to leave you in the cold, but I’d appreciate it if you waited in the lobby.” They got out of the car, Will slamming his door harder than necessary. “Sorry,” he said.

“You’re upset. It’s fine.”

He held the door for her, and they walked into the Institute that Will had visited so many times in the year following Hannibal’s incarceration. “Wait here?” Will asked.

“Of course, whatever you need.” She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Good luck, Will.”

“I’ll need it.”

Chilton was typically unhappy to see him, which was comforting in a nostalgic kind of way, but ultimately he granted Will access. He made sure to remind Will that his conversation would be recorded, as if he didn’t already know that.

Will started to shake as he walked down the hall to Hannibal’s cell, but he was able to get himself under control by the time he reached it. He swallowed hard, and calmly—he hoped—walked up to the cell, taking care not to step across the white line.

Hannibal sat at the small desk Chilton had provided him with, sketching something in charcoal. Will cleared his throat, and Hannibal perked up. He looked astonished at first, but that soon changed to a lizard’s smile. “Will! What a pleasure to see an old friend.”

“Is that what we are now? Old friends?”

“We became that when you said goodbye,” Hannibal said, approaching the glass. “Or would you prefer ‘former lovers?’”

Will was sure Chilton was pissing himself on the other side of the microphones. “I would, actually,” he said. “Wouldn’t you?”

“To what do I owe this visit?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I just… something reminded me of you, and I realized I still…”

“Still what, Will?”

“I still…”

“You still have feelings for me?” Hannibal asked in an amused tone. Will’s eyes began to water again. “Wait… that’s truly what you were trying to say? I was only joking.”

“It’s been torture without you,” Will said. His voice quavered. “I can’t… I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“Will…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to get it out of my system.”

“I want you to understand something: it’s been an eternity in here. I don’t know how I survived being apart, but I did. It’s not fair of you to… Why, after all this time? Why now?”

“I should go,” Will said. “This isn’t healthy.”

“We were never ‘healthy,’ but were intertwined. You untangled us when you swore me off and stopped our visits. There’s nothing left.”

“You don’t really believe that.” Will wiped tears away with the back of his hand. “We loved each other. Isn’t there something still there?”

“No. I’m sorry, Will. I was glad to see you, but this… this is something else entirely. I’d like you to leave.”

The gates opened, and Will could see Barney coming to escort him out. “Can I visit you again?”

“I don’t think that’s wise.” Hannibal didn’t say goodbye, he just went back to his desk.

“Hey, Barney,” Will said. “I’ll go, it’s fine.” He stepped through the gate. “Good seeing you again,” he mumbled, and met back up with Bev in the lobby.

Hannibal continued his sketch. If Will had paid more attention, he might have seen the subject of the drawing: the subject Hannibal _always_ drew. And it would have broken his heart.

 


End file.
